•  The banner photo is left to right, Luciana (Nympha’s mother) Michael, and his uncle Artemio the youngest of four boys.

 Michael’s Story (Part 1)

Marlon is Nympha’s first and oldest. We would not find Marlon until he was over thirty. Michael is Nympha’s second born son. Michael’s father was an unknown U.S serviceman who likely doesn’t know he left behind a son. The following is Michael’s story. It is made up of my memories and some of Michael’s recollections of his years as a small boy. Michael was 7 years old when we arrived the first trip and 10 years old when I had completed his adoption and took him home with us.

When Nympha told me she had given birth to two sons I was not deterred in my determination to marry her and take her away from the darkness of this world created by the presence of an empire’s military in the midst of an island peoples poverty. It is not an easy decision for a twenty year old man to marry a woman from such a complicated and oppressive past. Her love for Christ and desire to live a life free from the trappings of the world she had crashed into was apparent in all her words and actions. My disdain for the existence of Olongapo and the grace of God in my soul kept me focused with an immovable faith.

I first met Michael one evening when Nympha had him brought over to the boarding house where she lived. He was but a baby in diapers. When he was born, Nympha’s sister Teresita and her husband (a U.S. sailor stationed at Subic Bay named Patrick) were present at this birth and falsified his birth certificate. Nympha identified herself as Teresita and Patrick Sayre as her husband.

I felt no immediate responsibility for Michael’s care since the events that placed him with Patrick and Teresita took place before I had met Nympha. Later in life I would have to pay a doctor to affirm that Teresita had never given birth and was sterile in order to get Michael’s birth certificate changed. I learned in 1983 that Teresita had returned to Leyte to live with the family and Michael was with her. By this time Nympha and I had two children, the oldest Gregg and his little sister Trinity.

During those years prior to gaining contact with Teresita, I had been caring for the family with a check sent via air mail each month. I had also been able to contact Patrick Sayre in hopes he might have heard from Teresita. We were aware that she had Michael and was wasting the monies Patrick had sent her to obtain her visa and come to the U.S. This was a difficult time in Michael’s life. As a young mestizo boy on the streets of Olongapo with a mother (Teresita) still working in the bars he had been living wild and abused.

Michael’s story is that he referred to five different men as Dad over his years with Teresita. He had a scar on the side of his face near his eye where Teresita put out a cigarette. He was left alone and once spent three days in a closet before being released. Michael spent a lot of time just living in the streets and had gotten lost more than once.

When I learned that Teresita had returned to the family with Michael then Nympha and I decided to tell my family. My father asked me how much would it cost to get Michael. Honestly, I expected my trip to get Michael would be filled with God’s miraculous aid and that I would bring him back in just a couple of weeks.

I obtained his birth certificate, flew to Manila, paid for a Philippine passport and got it in one day with a little help from the cash in my pocket. Next step the U.S. Embassy! My naivety and previous experiences drove my faith. I showed up at the U.S. embassy with Michael and a passport and a story, expecting to leave with a visa. There was no earthquake or divine grace touching hearts on this day. Rather, the woman behind the desk this time suggested I might be a pedophile trying to take this boy out of the country. I thought her suggestion absurd, it was obvious that Mike was mestizo, I was completely honest about all the details of who I was and who Mike was, but it was not enough.

I left the U.S. embassy determined to get Michael the brother of my kids and make him a part of our family. After returning to California to our little town, I shared with our church that it was time for me to go to the Philippines and do missionary work while cleaning up the mess of paperwork that prohibited me from bringing Michael home. One year later I had enough funds to leave.